The Funeral
by r-649
Summary: Blairs point of view of the funeral of Bart Bass.


It's a funny thing… Preparing for a funeral. Face painted, jewelry loaded and the perfect shoes to compliment your designer dress. Hundreds of women were performing their daily ritual, but today in honor of Bart Bass. However few are really dressing to mourn; they are just getting ready for the show. A billionaires tragic, sudden death calls for pretty big show; but I'm not like those women, I for one am dreading the show.

Never in my life had I really cared for Bart Bass. He was simply Chuck's cold, frightening father. He was Lily's latest conquest, and predictable not her last. He was Serena's controlling, at times creepy stepfather. But to me, he was nothing. So now, my feelings make no sense. To say I'm mourning would be untrue; I can hardly recall one conversation with Bart. My pain, my sadness, it lies with Chuck. Chuck who is probably lying in bed holding an empty bottle of scotch and potentially holding a prostitute or high-class hooker in the other arm, I know he is falling apart, and because of that so am I…

What would Audrey do? She would be strong and graceful no matter the situation. If Chuck can barely walk, if he is unrecognizable, crippled by sadness, I will remain graceful. I will hold his hand, lift him up, and assure him of my support. Audrey wouldn't fall apart so I will not. Tears will be strangers to my eyes. Pain will not be in my heart. I will be numb to the feelings; my soul mission will be to devote myself to Chuck. His every need, I will be there no matter what.

"How do you think we will find him?" Nate was worried, I could tell. We both walked in almost silence towards The Palace with unspoken concern for our broken friend. It didn't take long for Nate's question to be answered, there, sitting at the door of The Palace, was Chuck. His tie was messily knotted very unlike Chucks usual expertise, his hair stuck up in all directions, his shoes were on the wrong feet, pain masked him, he looked past sick, he almost looked dead himself… He wasn't Chuck anymore. I could feel the tears welling up but in Audrey fashion I pushed them back and presented a nervous laugh before rushing forward to fix the broken boy that lay before me.

After vast attempts at taming Chucks horrifying appearance, Nate and I found ourselves hulling him out of the town car into outside of the church. All I wanted to do was fix him, but it was clear that nothing I could do would heal him. He needed today to say goodbye, to cry, to hurt; tomorrow were would pick up the pieces, tomorrow we would get through it. But today, we would just mull through and hopefully avoid falling apart.

Chuck didn't cry during the service. Occasionally I would reach for his hand or place my hand on his back in a supportive fashion. That's how the people in the movies did it, and it always seemed to be affective. But this wasn't a movie and Chuck wasn't like most people. The more I pushed, the more he pulled away. As soon as the service was over I thought he would get up and run. I suspected he would drive to the nearest bar and get even more hammered. But instead he sat. He allowed me to sit with him but besides the occasional glance he acted as though he was alone. Eventually, once everyone was gone he rose and made his way to the limo.

Nate claimed I was 'sweet with him.' He thought this as a complement. As if I was a sweet little girl with no power. No I'm not sweet. I'm powerful. I'm strong. I am able to get Chuck through this but not because I'm sweet. I longingly watched the staircase, in the hope that Chuck would come for me. Tell me he needs me more than ever now and this loss has made his love for me even clearer now. As he descended the stairs, for a split second that's what I thought would happen, but instead he got into the elevator before I could follow and left me.

This was the first time I had ever seen it fitting to take the stairs. Thoughtlessly I grabbed my coat and ran out the fire escape in the thirst for Chuck. He couldn't be without me, he needed me to look after him. Running in heels is such a movie moment. I felt like Audrey with the wind in my hair, running for the man I loved.

After finally catching him, I knew it was the moment. This was the dramatic moment in the film; everything was shattering but it didn't matter because we had each other. I knew in that instant that now was the time that we would confess our love and everything would be okay again. So I did… With each passionate word of "I love you" I let go of my pride. With each second I let down more and more of my guard. But for nothing… Because in four words he destroyed me, "Well that's too bad." Suddenly I had a new understanding on what it meant to mourn the ones you loved.


End file.
